I'll Always Come Home (Drarry)
by SearchingForOurFaultedStars
Summary: While Harry is away, working as an auror, Draco lives in fear that he won't ever come home again. While Draco is far away waiting at home, Harry wonders if he'll ever find his back to him again. Drarry oneshot.


Alcohol never tasted sweeter.

Draco let the whiskey slide down his throat and warm his chest. How comforting it was to know that with just a sip he could erase all his sorrows, all his pain, all his thoughts that were worth forgetting.

Draco was piss drunk, and he very well knew that but he didn't care. His only solace was knowing that with just a few more drinks he would pass out and sleep in blissful darkness, all his thoughts and pain receding until he woke and they all washed over him again. Then the cycle would repeat.

It was all his fault, that stupid bloody bastard of a wizard. It was everything about him that always left Draco seething with anger. The way he act impulsively, never thinking about the consequences of his actions, the way he was so damn stubborn about everything, the way he always felt the need to prove that he was right, the way he was able to tear down Draco's walls, only to leave him broken.

Then why did he keep letting him come back? Oh there were so many reasons why Draco wanted to savagely murder him, but hold on to him like he was the last thing on earth at the same time.

The way he was able to make people listen to him, the power and influence he had over others, yet the humbleness he obtained, the loyalty he showed to his friends and the compassion he had for people. When it was just the two of them, it was the way his black hair shimmered in the moonlight, the way his green eyes revealed his innermost emotions, the way he held Draco and kissed him like he was the only thing that mattered, the way that he whispered Draco's name when they were making love.

But most importantly, it was the way he understood Draco. It was the way that he knew that Draco was not like the rest of them, with their black cloaks and white masks. He knew that Draco wouldn't follow in his father's footsteps. He knew that Draco, despite his mask of constant sneering, selfishness, and indifference, actually cared about people that were close to him.

Lying on the floor where he had fallen over, tripping over the coffee table, he settled into the dizzying sensation and the whirl around him as everything seemingly blended into one. His head felt like lead and his throat suddenly parched.

Draco whispered his name, letting the words softly roll off his tongue once more before everything faded to black.

_Harry Potter._

"Great work, Potter."

"Mhmm."

"Potter?"

"Sorry?"

"I said great work."

"Oh, thank you."

"There's another…umm…something that needs to be tended to. I don't think it's wise to discuss it here."

The minister then handed him another note and turned around swiftly and left. Harry sighed, his body battered and bruised, dark circles appearing under his eyes, but he knew that he had no choice.

Harry's work took him to the four corners of the earth and as an auror it wasn't often that he would return unscathed. The memories of the things that he had seen haunted his every thought and plagued his dreams. The Dark Lord might have been vanquished, but his followers had become scattered, trying to revive the terror that was once raging at the mere sound of his name.

Harry was hardly ever home, his work kept him from doing that. There were times when he thought about resigning and settling for something that allowed him to work at the Ministry, but every time he was about to hand in his papers it seemed that there was always something that needed to be taken care of.

Every time he left it was always for more than a few months. Every time he left, he felt guilty for leaving. Every time he left, he would look back at the sleeping face hidden among the sheets, the blond hair that was sticking in every direction, and wish he could crawl back in bed and never leave.

And the thing that Harry hated the most was the initial bitterness that the stupid twat gave to him when he returned. The glares of hatred, the utter silence, the complete isolation, all as if it was his own fault.

But if he truly hated Harry, then why did Harry always feel the need to keep coming back?

His cleverness, his wit, his crooked smile that he often gave to Harry. It was the way he could silence a room with just a flick of his hand. When it was just the two of them, it was the way that his blond hair shone in the moonlight, the way his smooth porcelain skin felt beneath his fingers, the way he held Harry and kissed Harry like he was the only thing that mattered, the way he whispered Harry's name when they were making love.

But most importantly, it was the way he understood Harry. It was the way that he knew, without any conversation, that Harry was truly broken inside. He knew that Harry, despite his mask of smiles and constant bravery, was just a scared boy who was about to crack under the pressure that he was under.

As Harry laid himself to bed in a dingy motel that night he croaked his name, through a slow trickle of tears, before he let himself fall asleep.

_Draco Malfoy. _

Draco sat on the sofa and looked at the havoc that he had unleashed on the flat. The coffee table was now laying on its side, a leg broken off and its glass surface shattered. There were chairs that had been thrown across the room, plates that were lying in pieces on the floor, curtains that had been torn to shreds.

And there was Draco, sitting in the midst of it all, an expression of a stormy calm on his face. Looking around he hoped that when Harry came home, if he ever did, that he would see what he had done to Draco, what he had left Draco to become.

Draco was tired of being treated as though he had no emotions. He was tired of the way that Harry would come home, tell Draco that he loved him, told him he would stay, only to leave again a few mornings later, leaving Draco to wake up to an empty space beside him. There was never a note saying goodbye, not even one letter while he was away. The worst part was not knowing whether he would ever see Harry alive again.

Fuck him, Draco thought. If he thinks that he can use me just so he has someone to fuck, than I'll show that little prick what it feels like to be alone.

But secretly, Draco knew that he would always want Harry to come back. Despite everything, he would always wait for Harry and it was something that even he didn't want to admit to himself.

I don't need this right now, he thought. And with that, he opened the next bottle of whiskey and took a swig, being grateful that he had at least something to numb the pain, something that would stop him from feeling.

Harry wasn't sure how much longer he would last.

The knowledge that he was acting on behalf of the greater good didn't cease his weariness. Harry very well knew that he was risking his life doing the work the ministry had appointed to him and as of late he began wondering whether it was all really worth it.

Harry thought of home and all that he was missing. He thought of the comfortable flat that he had been able to purchase, something inconspicuous yet charming, and of all its amenities and comforts. He thought of Ron and Hermione and how it had been so long since he was last able to see them. Did they give him any thought anymore?

Most of all he missed Draco and everything about him, everything they did together. Harry wasn't quite sure that Draco understood how much he was torn apart every time he had to leave. There had been some times when Draco would wake as Harry was leaving and would grab hold of his wrists and beg him not to go, reminding him of the promises he had made. It made Harry's head hurt merely thinking about all the promises he had broken, all the hopes he had dashed, all the wishes he had crushed.

Harry was tired of the path he had chosen. He was tired of the way that the Ministry would call upon him without a moment's notice, forcing him to drop everything. He was tired of the way they treated Harry like they owned him. He was tired of waking up every morning wondering if today was going to be his last, wondering if he would ever see Draco again.

Harry leaned his forehead against the hotel window and sighed, looking out over whatever city it was that the Ministry had felt like sending him to suddenly. He thought about how it would be easier if he never returned at all. Maybe he would send a goodbye note to Draco, telling him that there was no use waiting anymore and that he was free to move on. That would be the practical thing to do wouldn't it? It would be healthier for the both of them. Harry set his mind to it that as soon as he could he would write the letter.

But secretly, Harry knew that he would always want to come home to London, to Draco. Despite everything, he hoped and prayed that Draco would always be there when he returned.

Harry read the letter that the minister had given him earlier. It entailed the details of his next coming assignment. He breathed in deeply then got up. Harry knew what he had to do.

There was no such thing as having too much to drink, was there?

Draco's head was pounding and his vision was blurry. His stomach felt as though someone had cast a slug-vomiting charm at him and if that wasn't enough, Draco could hardly stand as he tried to make his way to the bathroom. If he didn't get there soon, he feared that the contents of that mornings breakfast would end up on the floor. It wasn't the most pleasurable of experiences to say the least but it was better than wallowing in self-pity and thinking about _Harry. _

The last thing Draco remembered before he fell unconscious was the cold tile bathroom floor rushing up to meet him.

Home again. Finally, at last.

Walking through the front door, Harry breathed in the pleasant scent of….

Panic consumed him as Harry saw the destructive mess around him. It was as though a troll had bashed his way through the flat and judging by the surroundings, Harry was scared that his worst fears had come true. One of his enemies had come to take Draco away.

"DRACO?! DRACO WHERE ARE YOU? DRACO?!" he began shouting.

Harry looked everywhere and was just about to move on to the next room, his worst fear becoming closer to a reality, when all of a sudden he heard a groan coming from the bathroom.

Or worse, they've nearly killed him and left him here to die, Harry thought.

When Harry finally found him, he couldn't help but scream. At first glance, it seemed as though someone really had come and left Draco for dead but then Harry noticed the bottles of whiskey scattered about his feet. Then he noticed the smell. Harry remembered when Uncle Vernon would have his business partners over for a formal supper and Harry was required to pour them drinks. He knew the smell of alcohol all to well.

There was Draco, his head hanging into the toilet bowl, his pale skin even more pale against the contrast of his dark veins that seemed ready to burst.

Harry walked closer and knelt on his knees, placing a hand on the small of Draco's back.

"Draco? I'm home, darling"

"Nice to see you, Potter."

Harry flinched. Draco hadn't called him solely by his last name in years.

When Draco looked up, Harry's jaw dropped. His face was pale and his eyes bloodshot, a small of trail of blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Above his eye there was a red cut surrounded by a dark purple bruise and deep circles were hanging low beneath his eyes.

"Oh, you've come back. Is the minister here? Perhaps we can have a cup of tea." Draco said absentmindedly.

"Draco, what have you done to yourself?"

"Nooo, that's not the question. The question is, what have you done to _yourself_? You look pretty."

"You're drunk."

"Quite the contrary. I feel as though I could battle a hippogriff."

Draco then blacked out for the second time that afternoon.

He woke up lying in bed feeling strangely calm. It must have been sometime in the middle of the night, judging by the dark starry sky outside. His headache was gone, though Draco still felt lightheaded and weak. Looking out the window, he was wondering how he had gotten to the bed in the first place when he remembered everything that had transpired that afternoon.

"Draco?"

He turned and there was Harry, sitting cross-legged behind him.

Without saying anything, Draco turned back towards the window. He tried to keep his relief at bay. Sooner or later he knew that Harry would leave again. There was no use hoping for something that would never come true.

"How long will it be this time?" Draco asked tentatively.

"What do you mean?"

Was Harry really that stupid?

"How long will it be before you leave again?"

"Draco, maybe you should just try and re-"

Draco turned around with a look of annoyance on his face.

"No. I'm tired of resting and sleeping all the time, waiting for you to come around. Do you even realize what it's been like?"

"I understand wha-"

"I don't think you do. Just in case you've lost track of time, its been eleven months since you were last home. ELEVEN MONTHS! NEARLY A WHOLE BLOODY YEAR!"

"Draco, please just listen to me."

"I'm not going to fucken listen to you. You're going to shut your trap and listen to me for once. You come in here prancing around like you're my savior and act like you deserve sympathy." spat Draco.

"I've just been out traveling across the world doing the work that nobody else wants to do. I've been trying to save people, some of whom put me through hell, some of whom aren't worth the trouble of saving. I don't expect you to treat me like a prince, but yes, a little bit of fucken sympathy would be nice." responded Harry.

Draco could no longer contain his inner rage.

"A little bit of sympathy?! Are you that oblivious? You treat everyone else like they're so insignificant and it seems like the only thing that matters to you are affairs that concern yourself. You treat me like I have no feelings. You think I'm going to wait around for you forever. You come home and promise you'll stay, and then leave and when you're gone, I don't hear from you and I never know if you're going to come home again! I spend every morning wondering if you're still alive and it makes me question whether this is all worth the trouble. I beg you not to go back but that doesn't seem to matter to you. I always think about when the day will come that I will HAVE TO CHOOSE A COFFIN TO BURY YOU IN!"

At this point, Draco was holding his head in his hands; sobbing so hard he was struggling to breathe. For a moment, Harry didn't know what to do. He always felt guilty for leaving, but had never realized the full extent of the damage that he had done. Everything that Draco had said was sinking in and for a few moments there was nothing but silence, neither Draco nor Harry moving.

"Draco?"

But Draco wouldn't look up.

Harry moved closer to him and pulled him onto his lap, Draco making no move of resistance. Harry held his face in his hands, making sure that Draco was looking directly at him.

"I didn't know. I swear, I didn't. If I had known what was going on here while you were alone, how you were feeling about all of this, I would have resigned long ago. I just want you to realize that I never meant to hurt you. You are the one person in this world that matters the most to me and to think of you in pain kills me inside because I love you too much to let anything happen to you. Draco?"

"How long before you go back?"

"That's what I came home to tell you. I'm not going back."

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean that I handed in my papers. I've resigned as an auror."

That was all Draco needed, just to hear those words, just to hear that little bit of reassurance.

He leaned forward and kissed Harry softly. It was different than the last few times that Draco had kissed Harry, all rushed. They both knew that their time together was limited so they tried to get as much of each other as possible. Of course they both enjoyed it, but somehow it didn't seem all that special.

This kiss however, was different. It was slow and deliberate. It was purposeful. It was beautiful. It was everything that they had both wanted but never had.

And when they separated to look into the other's face, neither could stop smiling.

"What will you do now?" asked Draco.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean in terms of work. I know you. I know you won't sit still for long. You like being up and about. You like exploring new things."

Harry had expected the question and Draco almost feared the answer.

"I've gotten a few offers from the ministry, some high positions involving working with the minister himself, among others. I've gotten one from Hogwarts."

That made Draco pause. Hogwarts? What was at Hogwarts? Neither of them had been to the castle in years.

"And what did they say?" Draco knew Hogwarts was full of memories for the both of them. Some were good, some were reminders of dark days that had once lingered long ago.

"I've gotten an invitation to be the new Headmaster." said Harry, pausing to listen to Draco's reaction.

"Headmaster? That's absolutely….. well…."

Harry knew there was something wrong.

"What is it, love?"

Anxiety had already settled in Draco. "Doesn't that mean you'll be away for the entire school year?"

"If I accept, I intend on taking you with me."

That caught Draco's attention.

"I know my absence has taken a toll on the both of us, and I want to fix that. I don't ever want to leave you alone, ever again. Who knows-maybe you could even be potions master or defe-"

Draco cut Harry off with another kiss, this time pushing him backward onto the bed so that he was lying on top of him.

"I love you Harry."

"I love you too."


End file.
